


The Thought of Leaving is So Surreal

by kaleidomusings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9455090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidomusings/pseuds/kaleidomusings
Summary: After Chris drags him to a club to celebrate their Grand Prix Final wins, Viktor faces unwanted attention from one stranger and is rescued by another.Or an alternative take on the after party where some things are different, some are the same, and Yuuri and Viktor always have a way of finding each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from “Dick & Jane” by Sidney York.

Viktor is leaning against the bar to order another round of drinks, when a man sidles up next to him. 

He’s attractive enough, Viktor supposes, but it has more to do with how fashionably dressed he is and the way his hair is styled than his features. But he loses interest at the man’s smug grin as his eyes sweep up and down Viktor’s body. Worst of all, he looks like the type used to getting his way and doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. 

“You’re that ice skater, aren’t you?” the man asks, proving just how ignorant he is. 

Viktor smiles, eyes crinkling with the falseness of it. He’s the five-time reigning world champion, not a run-of-the-mill skater. He’s not at all impressed by this clumsy and offensive attempt at flirting. “Very observant, aren’t you?”

The dumb bastard completely misses the sarcasm in his voice and preens, as if he has any right to. “How about we go somewhere more private?” 

Then he has the nerve to lean closer, trailing his fingers down Viktor’s back. 

Viktor reaches behind and grasps his hand in his own to still it. “What’s your name?”

The man looks pleased with himself, like he actually thinks Viktor is falling for his terrible seduction technique. “Patrick.”

“Patrick,” Viktor repeats in his huskiest voice. Then, in a more normal tone, he adds, “I would sooner give up my five gold medals than go anywhere with _you_.”

He twists Patrick’s wrist hard enough to make him shriek, before letting him go. Viktor accepts the drinks the bartender _finally_ slides toward him and starts to walk away. 

“Goodbye. Hope to see you never.” 

“Bitch,” he hears Patrick snarl and feels the rush of air as he swings a punch at him. 

Viktor is about to drop the glasses and give this scumbag as good as he gets, when a sudden blur sends Patrick face first into the floor. 

“Please refrain from using derogatory terms,” a voice says, slurring the words. Very obviously drunk. “It’s not very nice.”

Viktor takes one look at his savior and immediately knows he’s a goner. 

A sharp contrast to Patrick, he’s wearing a cheap suit and an ugly tie wrapped his head like a bandana. His dark hair is messy, like he kept running his hands through it, and there’s the unmistakable flush of being drunk in his face. But his big brown eyes are bright when he looks at Viktor, mouth twisted with concern. “Are you okay?” he asks. 

And Viktor, for the first time in a long time, finds himself smiling for real. “Yeah.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Patrick demands, struggling to his feet and looming menacingly over Viktor’s drunken hero. “I’m going to break your face.”

“Sure!” he chirps, swaying to and fro. “Go ahead and try if you want to.”

Patrick goes red with fury and steps forward as if to actually do it, but then notices the attention from the crowd. “What a fucking waste of time,” he growls before shoving his way through the crowd to the nearest exit. 

There’s a slight tremor in Viktor’s hands which he pointedly ignores. “Thanks for your help,” he tells the man who saved him, who looks vaguely familiar, now that Viktor is looking more closely. “I’d better—“

“Oh,” he interrupts when he recognizes Viktor. But unlike Patrick and others like him who only see Viktor as a conquest, this man’s eyes are shining with adoration and his voice is very hushed when he says, “It’s you.”

“What’s taking so long?” Chris asks, having approached with Viktor’s notice. He takes his drink from him and downs it, glancing at Viktor’s savior before bursting into laughter. “Yuuri, you’re so drunk.”

“I am drunk,” the man - _Yuuri_ \- agrees, nodding seriously. “I’m very drunk.” He sways into Viktor, making his drink spill all over his hand, and smiles up at him like Viktor is his entire world. “I think I’m dreaming.”

On anyone else, that kind of blind adoration might have annoyed him, but on Yuuri it’s actually kind of cute. Viktor wraps an arm around his waist to help keep him upright as he leans heavily against his shoulder. “Chris, do you know him?”

Chris raises his eyebrow. “I should hope so, since I invited him here. He competed with us in the Final. Don’t you remember?" 

Viktor throws back his drink and leaves the glass on the bar. He glances down at the drunken man in his arms, who has started playing with the buttons on Viktor’s shirt. “How about I get you a taxi?”

Yuuri blinks up at him. “I want to dance,” he says, as if personally offended that Viktor wants to make sure he gets back to his hotel safely. He tugs him toward the dance floor. “Dance with me, Viktor.”

“That’s not a good idea.” He glances at Chris for help, but only receives a very suggestive wink in response. “I don’t like to dance.”

Not in crowded clubs anyway. Especially not a club Chris dragged him to on a whim. 

Yuuri considers this for a moment before grabbing his hand and pulling him outside, far away from the pounding music and from the mass of swaying bodies. He takes Viktor’s hand in his own, his breath misting in the frigid night air. “Is this better?”

“Yeah,” Viktor says, squeezing his hand very gently. “It is.”

They flag down a taxi to take back to the hotel, content in the quiet of each other’s presence. Viktor pays the fare despite Yuuri’s protests and leading him into the lobby, where the only person there -a pretty receptionist at the front desk- smiles at them.

“What floor are you on?” Viktor starts to ask, only to pause when he’s tugged to a stop. Yuuri is very warm as he leans against Viktor, guiding his hands to wrap around his waist. 

“I love to dance,” he murmurs in Viktor’s ear, who blames the sudden rush of heat in his cheeks on the drinks he’s had. 

Yuuri leads them through a dance to music only he can hear and Viktor lets him, more out of curiosity than anything else. Because now that Chris has mentioned it, he does recognize Yuuri as the competitor from Japan. He never watched his performance, but then again he never does. During competitions Viktor is always so focused on his own routine to watch anyone else and he’s always too busy to do so afterwards, but he’s watching Yuuri now. 

He dances like it’s second nature to him, Viktor can tell that much. Yuuri moves like he and Viktor are the only ones in the entire room, like no one else matters but them. He’s also humming softly, turning and spinning Viktor across the lobby as if they were in a ballroom. 

“Who taught you how to dance?” Viktor can’t help but ask.  

“Minako taught me,” Yuuri replies. He seems to realize that Viktor has no idea who that is and elaborates, “An old family friend. She used to teach me ballet and self-defense.”

Viktor nods, because that makes a bit more sense. “You’re good. You took down that guy at the bar like it was no big deal.” 

Yuuri’s brow furrows. “He was bothering you. You looked uncomfortable.”

Viktor smiles down at him, touched by the concern but finding it unnecessary. “I can fight my own battles, you know.”

He glances away, suddenly embarrassed. “Of course you can. It wasn’t that I didn’t think you couldn’t—“

“But you saved me having to explain myself to Yakov,” Viktor muses, because that wouldn’t have been fun if Viktor showed up in front of his coach looking like he’d be fighting. “So thanks for that.”

Yuuri stares up at him, the light playing on the warm brown of his eyes, before starting to laugh. “Why are you thanking me? It’s what any decent person would have done.”

Viktor smiles back, but doesn’t reply. Because he was in a room with Chris and other people he knows and not one of them knew he was in trouble. Only Yuuri did. 

Taking Viktor’s smile as amusement, Yuuri dips him and touches his face. Viktor responds in kind, cradling the back of his head, and they laugh together. It’s silly but it’s fun, and Viktor can’t remember the last time he’s done either of those things. 

But sadly the moment doesn’t last. The front doors slide open and a couple hurry in from the cold, chattering excitedly to one another. Catching sight of Yuuri and Viktor, they freeze and one woman tugs on the sleeve of the other’s coat, trying to whisper and still loud enough to be heard, “Isn’t that Viktor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri?”

“Come on.” Viktor rights himself and takes hold of Yuuri’s hand, guiding him to the elevators. He smiles at the women and waves, but it feels wrong somehow. As if the expression he makes with other people compared to the one he has with Yuuri are completely different. Unsettled by his thoughts, Viktor pushes the number for a random floor and the close button once they’re in the elevator, wanting to be alone with Yuuri for as long as possible and not quite sure what to make of it. 

Yuuri notices Viktor staring at him and laughs, as if he can’t believe Viktor is looking at him. “What?” 

“Can I have your number?”

Yuuri looks just as stunned by the question as Viktor feels, but he digs around in his pocket for his phone. He finds it, but a pair of glasses and his hotel key also fall out, which Viktor retrieves for him. He fumbles with his phone a few times, trying to unlock it, but finally manages it and hands it over. 

Viktor puts in his contact and calls himself, so he can save Yuuri’s number later before handing it back. Yuuri looks at his phone like he doesn’t recognize it, like the blue poodle phone case isn’t his, and it makes something warm spread in Viktor’s chest. “Are you okay?”

“I never thought I’d get to exchange phone numbers with you,” Yuuri admits. He glances up at Viktor, eyes shining. “Hey, you should come to my family’s hot spring. And be my coach!" 

“A coach?” The elevator dings as it opens its doors and draws Viktor’s attention away from such an odd request. “What floor are you on?”

Yuuri tells him, so he presses the button and the doors close again. Yuuri tilts to one side, as if he’s forgotten how to stand straight, so Viktor reaches out and presses his head against his shoulder. 

He just can’t figure out why Yuuri wants him to be his coach. Sure, he came in dead last, but he made it to the Grand Prix Final and that has to count for something. And from what he can tell, Yuuri is talented, so it’s not so much his skating that’s the problem. He may have a bad relationship with his current coach, but -of all the people he could have asked- he wants Viktor to coach him? Yakov would have a heart attack if he knew what Yuuri was requesting of him, because he would have to take the next season off if he actually went through with it. And wouldn’t that be a surprise to the entire world?

“Yuuri.”

His dark brown eyes flicker up to meet his, from where they’d been staring intently at his mouth. “Hm?”

Viktor runs his fingers through his dark hair, unable to help himself. “What will you give me if I become your coach?”

Yuuri doesn’t even stop to think about it. “I’d win gold for you,” he says.

And for Viktor, that’s the only answer he needs. 

He leads Yuuri to his hotel room, bringing him a glass of water from the bathroom sink, then helping him out of his jacket and shoes. Viktor tucks him into bed, holding his hand and leaning down to kiss his cheek.  

“I’ll be your coach, Yuuri.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri asks sleepily, already drifting off. 

“Yeah,” Viktor answers, already excited and happy at the idea of it. Yakov is going to be furious with him and no one in the skating world will understand his decision, but he wants to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s wanted anything this much. “Call me.”

Yuuri nods before falling fast asleep. Viktor is reluctant to let him go, but finally pulls away, letting himself take one last glance at this strange and beautiful man before leaving the room. 

They’re going to have a lot of time to get to know each other later, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for the sole purpose of a Gross Creep to hit on Viktor and Yuuri flying to his rescue. I honestly don’t know how the rest of it happened.
> 
> And if you think Minako didn’t also teach smol anxious Yuuri how to defend himself, then you are very mistaken my friend. (it’s just he never actually gets violent enough to use those skills except when he’s completely wasted.)


End file.
